Chapter 8

"I know what I saw, Doctor Turow," Castle insists. "She opened her eyes!"

"And I believe you, Mr. Castle," the calming voice of the female neurologist replies. "I just want to ensure that you realize that this is the first step… on a very tall ladder. Regaining consciousness from a comatose state is not like how it's shown in the movies."

Castle exhales heavily as she feels him gently stroking the length of her arm.

"It will not be instantaneous. The reality is that Detective Beckett may drift in and out of consciousness several times, being awake for only minutes at a time. And when she does awaken fully, she may find herself in a profound state of confusion, she may not know where she is or how she got here, and she might even suffer from dysarthria."

'Dysarthria?'

"Which is?..." Castle mutters inquisitively.

"Well... essentially, it's the inability to articulate any speech," the neurologist explains softly, "among other disabling issues."

Castle releases a deep, laboured breath. His grip on Kate's hand increases its pressure as she is immersed in a cloud of uncertainty. She was sure she'd wake up. She was sure that everything would be fine, that she would be fine. Normal.

"I'm not saying that this will happen, Mr. Castle, but… depending... she may also have to relearn how to walk," the doctor continues, voice soft, sympathetic. "I just need you to understand that she might be just fine… or she may never recover completely."

She'd never considered…

'Don't go there, Kate!...' Beckett snaps herself from her momentary trepidation.

She'd almost frozen to death, almost been mauled by a tiger, almost drowned, almost been incinerated. She's been shot in the heart.

And she survived.

'Don't let fear win...'

She's not sure if she was trying to remind herself of this or if she was hoping to convey this to Castle, but the slow, methodical sensation of two fingers tracing gently along the length of her slim index finger makes her believe she's successfully done both.

"It's been six days, Mr. Castle," the neurologist states quietly, sensitively. "Being comatose for that long is-"

"You don't know her," Castle sputters insistently, cutting off the doctor mid-thought. "Kate's a fighter."

His fingers twine with those of the hand laying by her side while a large, warm palm comes to rest on the side of her face, his thumb gently caressing her cheekbones, sending waves of heat streaming through her body. "She's a survivor."


For hours, Castle has been talking to her, encouraging her, pleading with her to open her eyes again.

For hours, she's been straining to do just that.

To no avail.

Yet she continues to push… toil… struggle.

She will not yield.

Because the way he looked at her… those piercing blue eyes staring straight at her. Through her. Gazing into the depths. Reading all of her secrets. All her mysteries. All her fears. All her desires.

Just as he has catalogued all of her facial expressions, she has memorized his. And the way he looked at her just before her name spilled from his lips - she's never seen that look before.

It was only a second, the briefest of moments. But she can't get it out her mind.

She's seen terror and despair. Acceptance and infatuation. Lust and adoration. Understanding and impatience. She's seen him infuriated. She's seen him remorseful. His face has been a canvass on which a plethora of emotions have been painted…

But this time?

In that split second when his blue eyes locked with hazel… when past, present and future flashed through the recesses of her mind… when there was harmony between utter discord and complete peace…

In that brief moment, the look in his eyes was an unmitigated enigma.

And it haunts her.

Once before, he'd watched her eyes close, believing he'd never again see them open. She hoped… prayed... he'd never have to experience that again.

Yet, he did. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She has control over her thoughts… but nothing else. And it's infuriating.

The frustration of being unable to communicate, of being unable to move, of being unable to see... Now that she has opened her eyes - albeit briefly - her sense of irritation has been amplified significantly.

But no matter how much she wants to respond, her body seems to have a very different agenda. She hates not knowing. She hates not being in control. And right now, she's burdened with both.

However, Castle is right. Kate Beckett is a fighter. She does not surrender just because things get a bit difficult. She has challenged corrupt politicians and she has taken down serial killers. Compared to that, lifting her eyelids should be a cinch.

She exerts herself once more, laboring. 'Come on!...'

But her body has other plans.

Her concentrated efforts are moot as her eyes remain shut. Lids glued together.

Uncompliant.

Stubborn.

Locked.

'I did it before… I can do it again,' she steels herself. 'I can.'

"Kate… relax." Her fiancé's deep, soothing voice pierces the hollows of her mind. "You'll wake up when your body is ready."

Her heart swells in her chest. He's so steadfast. Always willing to wait for her. His unlimited faith in her continues to astound her. Gives her confidence and strength when she is starting to lose hope.

The comforting sensation of his fingers tangled with hers makes her feel safe. Loved. A glowing sense of peace surges through her veins. She knows in this moment that no matter what, he will always be there.

Because he believes in her.

And she believes in him. In them.

She yearns to touch him. Kiss him. Hold him. His thumb traces light, random patterns along the inside of her wrist. Shivers race along her vertebrae in response to his touch, fire filling her core. It's pure, unadulterated ecstasy. He gives her hand a gentle, loving squeeze as his other hand rests on her flat stomach.

"Kate..." he whispers. "I'm here."

She tightens her grip in response.


xxxxxxxx

Darned fic... It's making me learn stuff and become all edumicated and what-not! :P

xxxxxxxx

To reviewer Minerva89: I am so sorry to have messed with your feelings so much. It's hard to deal with feelings when your feelings having feelings and you're not sure which feelings you ought to feel. :D

xxxxxxx

Hugs to fooxoo for giving me words more eloquent than "blah blah blah" when I got stuck...


Almost at the end... stay with me.

And as always... Judge away. :D